No Passport Required Journey to Colombia's 'Lost City' is a transformative one

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Posted Jan. 24, 2013 at 3:15 AM

Posted Jan. 24, 2013 at 3:15 AM

by Patrick J. McGinnis

Sanford News Guest Columnist

As a college student some 15 years ago, I backpacked from Colombia to Argentina, largely by land. One of the most memorable legs of this trip was a bus ride from Colombia’s capital city of Bogota to the country’s northern coast. I eventually landed in the Caribbean city of Santa Marta, the site where Simon Bolivar, the liberator of Latin America, drew his last breath.

Santa Marta is the most logical point of departure for travelers looking to explore “La Ciudad Perdida” (The Lost City), a pre-Columbian city that was built in 800 AD and then abandoned some 400 years ago when the Spanish Conquistadores arrived to the Americas. At that time, the local Indian population began dying from diseases imported by their European conquerors. Fearing that the city itself was the cause of their demise, they left. The city, originally called Teyuna, today consists of the ruins of over 200 structures spread out over approximately 75 acres of land. It is reached by walking two to three days into the jungle and culminates in an ascent of 1,200 mossy stairs built into the side of a mountain.

Unfortunately, when I was in Santa Marta in 1997, Colombia was fighting a bruising internal battle that made visiting La Ciudad Perdida quite perilous. The situation continued to deteriorate and in 2003, a group of tourists hiking to the city were kidnapped for over three months. Visits were then suspended and were only reinstated in 2005.

When I left Santa Marta all those years ago, I made a mental note that I needed to return one day to see the Ciudad Perdida with my own eyes. Of course, things have changed considerably since that time. I started returning to Colombia for professional reasons in 2007, and in subsequent trips I have been happy to see that the country has left its violent past behind. Given Colombia’s tremendous strides with respect to the security situation, I once again found myself in Santa Marta in early 2013. To be honest, referring to the “Lost City” these days is a bit of a misnomer, as the attraction is quickly becoming a “must-see” for adventure travelers. Still, it remains quite isolated and hard to reach.

While the trail is not particularly technical, a series of steep ascents, river crossings and generally rough terrain make the trek strenuous. Travelers who aren’t in shape or haven’t outfitted themselves correctly tend to suffer. In my group of about 25 hikers, I observed legions of blisters and bug bites. We also had a few casualties, with one person falling into a ditch, another barely avoiding attack by a poisonous snake, and one injured hiker requiring transportation off the mountain on the back of a mule. We even had a fistfight between two hikers over a girl. Needless to say, my LL Bean emergency medical kit made me exceeding popular around camp.

If there’s one thing I learned growing up in Maine, it’s to think practically, and I hope to think that’s a quality I’ve maintained even after all these years away. If you’re hiking through the jungle, a good pair of shoes and appropriate gear is a lot more important than making a fashion statement. To my bemusement, a few fellow travelers were dressed more for the country club than a 5-day hike. As I sweated my way through the jungle heat, I witnessed a European tourist starting his hike for the day with a wool sweater draped around his shoulders! A Colombian hiker tried to make his way to the Lost City wearing what looked like boat shoes (that’s the guy who got hauled off the mountain on the back of a donkey). Of course, he claimed that his foot injury was caused by a salsa dancing injury rather than a poor choice in footwear.

While the Lost City is quite beautiful, the journey itself is also a transformative experience. I loved sleeping in a hammock at night alongside a rushing river. I also loved being totally disconnected from technology for five days. It turns out that days free of cell phones, Internet, and television make you feel great. For the first time in years, I didn’t wake up in the morning with my head cluttered with noise.

Finally, I was amazed to find that even in the jungles of Colombia, my thoughts couldn’t help but return to the hikes I used to take in the wilds of Sanford and Springvale. At the end of the longest day of hiking, the guides told us that we were about to come to an amazing swimming hole. They said that it was really something to behold. As I rounded a corner, I saw what looked like Indian’s Last Leap’s long lost twin. Unlike the Leap, into which I’ve never jumped, I leapt into the cold water. As I looked around the forest and thought of the Leap and its particular patch of the Mousam Way Trail, I was struck by a thought. It turns out that sometimes you have to go far from home to appreciate the things you could have done all along. Maybe I’ll finally hit the Leap this summer; that is, unless I injure myself salsa dancing over the next few months.

Patrick J. McGinnis is a Sanford native and a graduate of Sanford High School. He occasionally submits guest columns to the Sanford News about his professional and personal travels around the world.